


Begin Again

by spideyfool



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Post-Season 3 (Trollhunters), Post-Wizards (Tales of Arcadia), So basically somewhere in the middle, TOA Secret Santa, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, minor hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideyfool/pseuds/spideyfool
Summary: Barbara Lake spends her first Valentine's day without her son.
Relationships: Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler | Stricklander
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Begin Again

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all, this is a secret santa gift for trollhuntermom on tumblr! i was their backup, and decided to do something valentine's related even though it's been a few days since valentine's day - it just seemed like it fit. this is my first time writing this ship, so i hope it's not too bad! writing barbara was pretty fun (:

Barbara woke up at 3:00 P.M. Which was an improvement, honestly; at least she had gotten a solid seven hours of sleep. She had just started the night-shift at the hospital again.

It felt good to get back to work. For several months, so much of her time was spent on the children from the Darklands. But at this point, all of them had either been adopted or fostered by another family. The house was finally quiet again.

Well, for the most part. As she dragged herself out of bed, she heard noises coming from downstairs. She registered the sound of sizzling on the stove as the smell of meat wafted into the room. She threw a loose shirt on, brushed her teeth, and made her way downstairs.

When she walked into the kitchen, Walter was standing at the stove with his back to her. He turned his head towards her almost immediately – did trolls have better hearing than humans? She’d have to ask later. 

She let the door swing shut behind her. “Oh, hi.”

His eyes lit up when he saw her. “Hello, Dear. Up so soon?” he teased. He had one pan and two pots on the stove, stirring something in one of them with a wooden spoon.

“Very funny,” she grinned, walking up to him and throwing her arms over his shoulders. “But that smells good. What’s the occasion?” 

He paused his motions. He seemed somewhat surprised. “It’s Valentine's Day.”

“Oh my God, is it?” she pulled away from him, “Dammit. I’m sorry, Walt.” 

He shook his head and took her hands in his. “Don’t be. The day doesn’t really mean much to me, but I thought it might mean something to  _ you _ .” 

She would normally spend Valentine’s with Jim. He’d cook a nice dinner, she’d buy him a gift, and they’d fall asleep together on the couch. But so much had happened this year; Jim was gone, and she’d forgotten about the holiday. 

She felt her chest tighten. “Typically, it does.” her hands grazed his back as she walked past him and into the living room, “I need to call Jim.” 

Walter nodded in understanding. 

She grabbed the landline and dialed her son’s number with haste. The phone rang for a few  very long  moments, but no one answered. She tried again two more times, but there was no luck. 

Jim didn’t always pick up the phone right away. Sometimes he was patrolling, or fighting goblins, or – well, doing whatever duties he had as a Trollhunter.

It didn’t mean she didn’t still worry. He was all the way across the country and his duty was  _ dangerous _ . The thought made her shake with anxiety. But she exhaled, put the phone down, and walked back into the kitchen. Walter had stepped away from the stove by now, watching her expectantly. 

“I called him. Three times. He won’t pick up.” 

Walter approached her and reached out for her, “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he figured out a way to spend the holiday with his girlfriend?” he suggested. 

“Probably,” she met him halfway, slipping her hands into his. “I’ll give him some time.” 

She focused on centering herself. Her mind wandered, from Jim to the children she helped raise in his absence. 

Walter squeezed her hands gently before turning back to the stove. It was probably better to focus on the now – to focus on what she  _ did _ have, until she could hold her own son again. 

She followed him back to the stove. She took the time to finally glance into the pots and pans: meatballs, tomato sauce, and noodles. 

“I didn’t even see what you were cooking,” she laughed at herself, leaning against Walter. 

He hummed. “Something simple, I’m afraid.”

She scoffed, “What? I love spaghetti.” 

As Walter turned the fire on the stove down, she sighed. “But I’m sorry we can’t spend the night together. I just...the date completely slipped my mind,” she lamented. 

“I understand. You’re a busy woman.” he replied, rubbing her arm in comfort. “But I could stop by the hospital later, if you don’t mind?” 

Barbara smiled, “I don’t.” 


End file.
